


In the Depths

by Tak138



Series: Sapphire & His Lady [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Child Abuse, Dehumanization, F/M, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, POV Alternating, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Underage Sex, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 23:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tak138/pseuds/Tak138
Summary: Sapphire has had many nightmares, but this may be one of the worst. Thankfully, Vysehna is there to comfort him.





	In the Depths

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sanguia for beta'ing, as usually.
> 
> Check out her stuff [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguia/pseuds/sanguia).

_ “What’s your name?” _

_ Whore. _

_ Whore. _

_ Whore. _

_ He chants it over and over and over. Nails bite at his hips, blood warm and slick between his thighs.  _

_ Whore. _

_ Whore. _

_ It’s his name, tattooed on his bones and scrawled across his flesh. There is no other. There never was any other. A fist in his hair, so much longer now that it once had been, and his face is slammed into the pillow, level with his knees. He stays limp, stays still. Whispering that word over and over. As if it could drown out the sound of wet, smacking skin. _

_ He doesn’t dare look, doesn’t dare breathe through his nose lest the stench makes him retch once more. His stomach convulses at the thought of taking the whip another time, and he has to fight the bile rising in his throat.  _

_ An image flashes across his eyes. In between the cosmetic stains on the sheets and the black-out stars of exhaustion, he sees it. A house on the docks, the shining streamers of the solstice festival.  _

_ Home, he thinks.  _

_ And then shrieks as a blade scrawls across his skin. White hot pain, eyes rolling into darkness.  _

_ Not home.  _

_ There are shackles around his wrists, binding him to the lower bedposts. Each thrust pushes him forward, pulling them further and further taut. His shoulders cry for relief, and so does he.  _

_ “What’s your name?” _

_ It’s snarled in his ear, and he screams it until his throat runs raw. _

_ The fist in his hair tightens, wrenches his head to the side. There is no room, no meager palace. Just swaths of black. The purest silks. Pearlescent, as if blessed with purest moonlight. _

_ No, he realizes, not darkness. People. _

_ A horde of them, primed, eager. And is not moonlight that glitters. It’s their teeth. Their glowing eyes. _

_ Panic seizes him like a black glove. Wrenching his arms, he tries to fight the shackles. But they are metal, and he is nothing. _

_ “Please,” he begs, “please— they’ll kill me—” _

_ His master laughs, the sound of crumbling worlds.  _

_ “They won’t kill you, Whore. They just want a taste.” _

_ No— he thrashes, tries to roll, tries to escape— _

_ Teeth pierce the nape of his neck, a blazing body leaning over his.  _

_ “That’s enough,” growls his master, and he feels every muscle in his body evaporate. As if a switch is flipped, he goes loose once more. A cackle sounds above him, echoing through the haze. It skitters across his skin like a roach, sweat chilling his exposed skin as the body vanishes. No, it doesn’t vanish. He can still feel that-that— fullness, the heat of dribbling blood. He keens as it shifts, burning agony zinging through him with each tremor. _

_ A hand runs down his back, and he doesn’t dare cringe away. “Look at you,” croons another voice, vicious and deadly, “A bitch in heat. You love it, don’t you?” _

_ No. _

_ No. _

_ “Don’t deny it,” that voice purrs. It’s not Master, is it? Something warm and slick slides between his legs, to his cock. “Look at this— you’re hard.” _

_ It isn’t true. It can’t be true. He refuses to believe that his body could emit something so awful. But as he peers between his legs, tears leaking from his eyes, he sees. Sees that the voice isn’t lying.  _

_ It’s not my fault, he wants to say. All that escapes is a broken whimper. _

_ “You love it,” the voice repeats. “You’re rock hard. This must be your thing, hm?” _

_ No… _

_ “No self-respecting human being could ever enjoy something like this.” _

_ I don’t… _

_ “Face it, bitch. You’re a fucking slut. And every single one of these men can see it plain as day.” _

_ Slut. _

_ It washes over him in a wave of bitter cold.  _

_ It's not true. _

_ A smack brings him back, so strong he knows there will be a handprint on his backside for days. _

_ “Happy birthday, Whore. Enjoy your gift.” _

  
  
  
  


Vysehna closes the armoire as silently as possible. Her eyes burned, her neck burned. Sometimes she didn’t know why she bothered. It wasn’t as though information would magically appear. The tomes were exactly as they had been when they embarked on this bullshit mission. 

And yet. She had to do something. Anything. There was still so much time, and so little to do. So little to study. She wasn’t ready, could never be ready. Maybe if she studied hard enough, things would make a little more sense. 

Un-fucking-likely.

Peeling off her trousers in favor of light sleeping pants, Vysehna watches the figure on her bed. Still as stone, hardly even seeming to breathe, that devil cat snoozing between him and the wall. She knows from experience that as soon as she climbed into bed, Sapphire would curl against her like a kitten, asleep or not. Still, seeing him like this always took her by surprise. He was taller than her, and yet like this he looks… so small. Barely visible in the flickering light of the lantern. 

She had just moved towards the bed when a sound broke the air, and she fell still. Like a… bird call. A squawk. Vysehna glances from one side of the room to the other, lowers her foot to test for a squeaky board. 

Another sound, this time quieter. More of a whine? Not the sound of creaking wood.

"Sapphire," she whispers, heart skipping, "Are you awake?"

Silence answers. She scowls, wiggles her toes on the floor. What the hell was that?

"Probably the damn cat," she hisses to herself, and takes another step. Sapphire jolts as if struck by lightning, hand shooting out to grope the sheets. Vysehna bites back a curse and refuses to flinch, even though her heart near flies from her chest. 

Sapphire claws across the bed, white knuckling her pillow, her side of the blanket. Whimpering, whining. He squirms, tosses his head, grasping desperately at the sheets. As if… as if he's looking for something. 

Vysehna lurches forward, catching his hand and clutching it tight. "Hey, hey," she whispers, "I got you, I'm here. It's okay."

His grip is murderous, bordering on painful. Vysehna runs a gentle thumb down his knuckles and crawls onto the bed alongside him. 

"Easy Pet. Easy, you're okay," she coos. Sapphire goes still, expression twisted and distraught. Like a broken animal his lips part, and the sound that escapes him spears through her chest. Vysehna lies down beside him, heedless of the sweat-sodden sheets, and combs her fingers through his hair. 

His eyes flutter, breath stuttering, and like a starving man unleashed on a feast, Sapphire shoves himself against her. She winces at the force of it, but wraps her arms around him regardless. 

The effect is instantaneous. All of Sapphire goes lax, his breath slowing to a steady rasp. 

"Shit," murmurs Vysehna, cradling the back of his head as he buries his face in her neck. The rattle of his heartbeat slows, keeps slowing. Where he'd latched onto her night shirt, his hands finally release. 

And then he's cuddled in her hold, it's like nothing ever happened. 

If it wasn't for the icy sweat that clings to him, to her, she might not have believed anything ever happened. 

_ What the hell was that? _

One wicked nightmare. It must have been.

Her heart swelling with sympathy, she can't help but smooth a hand down his bare back. Even in his sleep Sapphire arches to her touch. He truly is feline. 

Her fingers catch on the edge of a scar, and she grimaces. Given the chance, she would slit Malco's throat. She has never killed by blade before and yet she's certain she would do it then.

And Sanyr? God, she hasn't even thought of what she'll do then. Upon returning to the palace. Her uncle was a cold and callous man, but she never thought him capable of hurting someone so innocent as her boy. 

Sapphire shifts, his legs stretching out along hers. 

_ He was reaching for me. _

She doesn't know what to do with it. Sure, Sapphire sought her affection, even her comfort, on occasion. Only out of necessity she'd assumed. But reaching out for her, desperately pawing across the bed? It wasn't something she had ever anticipated. 

The thought fills her with warmth, and a sense of responsibility. Slaves were slaves, never meant to be minded or cared for. Sapphire had never been her slave even in the beginning. Pets were different, coddled things that meant more than the average maid. But even more than that, Vysehna found herself caring about him.  _ Genuinely _ caring. Not in the way someone cared for an object, polishing it or sharpening it. Something… different. More human. 

She didn't know what to do with that either. 

Gradually Vysehna relaxes, her nose buried in Sapphire's hair. Breathing in the scent of him, cheap soap and something like rain. Lying like this, with him in her arms, the sound of waves sloshing outside and the gentle sway of the ship. 

She didn't want to ever leave. 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [ Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/tak138)


End file.
